


Beloved

by clownjuicee



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Exhaustion, M/M, Manipulation, No Escape, Verbal Abuse, Violence, ill add more tags later on, waylon falls down the stairs, waylon is loosing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 20:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18820453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownjuicee/pseuds/clownjuicee
Summary: Waylon is faced with being held captive by the dangerous, terrifying giant that is Eddie Gluskin.





	Beloved

Waylon knew he wouldn't escape.

The walls of Mount Massive Asylum had very obviously held many people through to their deaths. He knew by the stench. By the smell of death that hang over him like a cloud. He knew by the many bodies that littered the halls as he made his way down them without direction. He knew by the experiments that he had witnessed while working under Murkoff.

Waylon had never knew of the extent to which those experiments had harmed the patients. Not until he was one himself. Maybe he was lucky. To still be mentally stable, or as close to mentally stable as he could be in this situation, to not have been turned into some awful creature such as the many men he had come across while looking for a way out. A way out that he never found...

The blond man felt exhausted. Cold. Hungry. Weak. His body held onto a dull ache from running so much and from the injury to his foot after his fall in the courtyard. Waylon wasn't even sure what time it was, but he was aware of the slight light in the sky above, as if it were trying to say that morning was coming soon. It was something that Waylon was hopeful of before. Something that he was determined to see. The morning. Daylight. He felt it might mean freedom. But by now, Waylon has given up. The thought of morning was bitter to Waylon now. It was a reminder that he would be stuck here to die.

Waylon did not feel any safer in the Vocational block as he did anywhere else. Not that he expected to. It was unusually silent.. Elsewhere, Waylon had heard the voices of variants, screams, the thud of a falling object or something breaking. It was never this silent. So silent that Waylon swore that one could hear his heart beat. He knew it was not empty, there's no way it could be. He had just escaped a man above him, who kept raving to himself on and on in different voices...Waylon didn't realize it was one person until he had come face to face with him. 

It was more unsettling that the man from before was absolutely silent now. If he hadn't had that run in, he would have assumed there was no one there. It was just silent. He could barely even hear any sound from the wind. It made Waylon feel nervous. His hands shook as he made his way slowly through the vocational block, looking around, mostly through the screen of his camera...it was so dark. He mainly relied on the night vision feature. Waylon hated that he couldn't see as much as he wanted. 

A noise sets him off. In the silence of the block around him, the noise was almost enhanced. Waylon swore he jumped almost a foot in the air, and he tripped, causing him to give a groan as pain shoots through his leg. He swore under his breath and looks around cautiously. He wondered if it was a variant. He keeps quiet, moving into the shadows and looking around a bit more than before. He could have sworn he heard a hum.

In fact, Waylon was right. It was a hum. This sent Waylon into a panicked state. He picked up his pace a bit, as much as he could at least, and made his way down a hall. He has to be able to get out of here someway, right? At least out of this section. His chest burned by now, from all the running he had done. He was about to grab the handle of a door, when in the window appeared a face.

The face belong to a tall man. He was almost as tall as the door itself, the terrified Waylon. Then getting a glance of his body, from what he saw in the window...he was huge. His voice and smile made him tense up, sent chills through his body.

"Darling!"

The man behind the door stared at Waylon though the door for a moment before turning to walk down the hall at a quick pace. Waylon is sure that he needs to run. In a quick moment, Waylon turned to look toward the other entrance of the room, seeing the large man now coming from the door. Waylon's eyes go wide. He was HUGE. The man had some scarring on his face and was wearing some tattered and hastily sewn together excuse of vest and bow tie. Something was familiar.

Waylon jumps again, starting to sprint as well as he could across the room to another door, shoving it open quickly and speeding down the hallway. He hears heavy footsteps behind him, which causes fear to rise into Waylon's heart. The mans voice booms to him from behind.

"Darling, you know, it's quite rude to run away."

Waylon wants to just scream and tell him to fuck off, but he was focused on running and breathing. Focused on not tripping over his feet. Trying to not pay attention to the pain in his injured leg. He just ran as fast and as far as he could. That's all he could do.

After quite a while of running...really it was a game of cat and mouse at this point, Waylon had had far too many close encounters with the giant, his mind trying to figure out where he's seen him before. Waylon feels so tired. Tired and frustrated. What was with this guy and insisting Waylon was his wife?! He was so sick of running. Waylon was just so close to collapsing, he could feel his body getting weak. He wasn't used to this much running. To this much injury and fatigue and force to be agile.

Waylon trips. It wasn't graceful or small either. It was a harsh sudden lurch forward, and he was sent stumbling down a staircase. Pain bursts all over Waylon's body (not to mention he felt like his leg had just been stabbed all over), he couldn't even stop himself from falling. The fall was quick but painful, and once Waylon reached the bottom, he had only a few moments to look around dizzily before he passed out.

When Waylon woke up, the first thing he felt was the aching pain all over his body and something comfortable under him. With a slight groan he opened his eyes, looking around still hazed from sleep. He had been moved somewhere, and he was pretty sure he knew by who. Anxiety started to pool in Waylon's stomach, and he takes a shaky breath. He felt too weak to move, only managing to sit up a bit against a rickety metal backboard. He realized he was on a bed. Waylon didn't want to think about what kind of disgusting germs or bodily fluids could be all over this mattress. There was a thin scrap of fabric thrown over him, as if it were a blanket.

Waylon sluggishly rubbed the back of his wrist against his face and brushed his hand through his hair. He tensed up when he heard the sound of a door being open. The room was so crowded by random furniture that he didn't even notice the door at first... Now that he really looked around, the room resembled a bedroom, all messily thrown together with things from other parts of the asylum.

Then came a hum and the door creaking, slow footsteps inside, and then-

"Ah! darling, you're awake."

It was the man from before, just as Waylon had thought it would be. His voice was less malicious than it was before, and the weak and tired Waylon found some sort of comfort in that. He looked down at the 'blanket' and then back up at the tall man. What was his name. Where did he know him...where...

The man in the underground lab! The man who had scared him before..Eddie Gluskin.

"I must say, you had me quite worried, my love, you were out cold."

Eddie slowly made his way over to Waylon, a slightly concerned look on his gruesome face. Waylon pulled his legs up closer to himself, as if curling up might protect himself from the giant that was Eddie Gluskin. Waylon was surprised with Eddie only sits on the end of the bed and looks at him, hands folded in his lap. He looked like he wasn't dangerous.

"Are you alright, you seem nervous...Though I suppose that is normal, many people get nervous before being married. You must have been so distracted from excitement that you fell down the stairs. I'm sure that you are feeling sore, so we can postpone the wedding for now."

Eddie rambled, watching Waylon. The blond was scared, yet he didn't feel particularly threatened by this. He even nods a bit, cracking a smile (fake but...still a smile).

"I would love for you to try on your dress, I want to know if it fits you, Id hate for there to be any problems with you wearing it."

Waylon can't help but let his smile fall away now, not exactly thrilled by the preposition. Now Waylon spoke up, his voice soft and somewhat nervous.

"I feel..very tired and weak...C-Can we wait?"

Eddie seemed to pause a moment, rubbing a finger over his lips while watching Waylon as he thought. He hummed lowly and lets out a sigh. Nodding.

"Yes I suppose that would be okay."

With a glance to the window Eddie gave a sudden gasp.

"My, it is getting late! Let me get you some food, I'm sure you must be starving."

And so, with a small chuckle, Eddie stood and exits the room. Waylon knows he should run. It was the perfect opportunity, the room was empty and he was sure Eddie would be occupied with finding food in the large building for a while. But Waylon felt no motivation to move. His body hurt to even slightly move and inch, so he just slides back down in bed and pulls the fabric that he now called his blanket over him, closing his eyes and falling back asleep.

Heaven knows he needed it.


End file.
